


two hands digging in each other's wounds

by alison



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Bottom Nick, M/M, Top Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 08:15:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alison/pseuds/alison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick and Louis don't know how to love properly and they destroy each other when they do it anyway.</p><p>For 30daysoftomlinshaw: favourite angst headcanon</p>
            </blockquote>





	two hands digging in each other's wounds

**Author's Note:**

> Very heavily influenced by the song "Still" by Daughter. Very. 
> 
> _it's spiraling down_   
>  _biting words like a wolf howling_   
>  _hate is spitting out each other's mouths_   
>  _but we're still sleeping like we're lovers_
> 
> Thanks to [Caitlin](http://www.carswinky.tumblr.com) for looking it over!

Nick doesn't really know how to love. He hasn't since he was a teenager and got his first taste of heartbreak when he let himself be an experiment for the boy he'd been in love with for two years. Since then, he's avoided love like the plague, knowing how truly dangerous it can be.

He's always been able to spot the signs, to put barriers between himself and anyone who threatened his determination to stay happily out of love. Cute boys who are entirely pleasant to be around have always made alarms sound in Nick's head and he takes steps backwards to keep them at a distance when he needs to.

Louis didn't give him any warning, though. Nick was blindsided.

One minute, Louis was glaring at him from across Harry's living room. The next, Nick's back was pressed into a spare bed and Louis was on him, lips on his, their fingers scrabbling at the buttons of his shirt together in a fevered attempt to get it off.

Nick felt something in his chest when he lowered his mouth around Louis' dick that night, hot and heavy on his tongue. He didn't know what it was at the time, but it started then, the absolutely catastrophic process of falling in love.

He noticed too late. By the time he realized what was happening, he didn't know how to get himself out of it. Louis was coming over to his flat several times a week. He was staying over. He was digging his way into Nick's life and Nick was letting him without even realizing.

But years of practice at keeping people at a distance don't just disappear overnight. Nick did so well for a while; he gave up pieces of his life for Louis, letting the boy into the voids left by their absence. He was doing well until he wasn't.

Louis isn't really any better at love, is the thing. Nick can see it in his eyes when they fall together, that he's terrified of what he's giving away. He's terrified of letting Nick in and he's doing it anyway and that makes it so much worse for Nick. He doesn't know how to take care of someone else's heart, especially one that's made of glass.

They start to hurt each other on purpose because they're going to do it anyway and maybe it's easier this way. They say things, awful things, and the spark of pain in the other's eyes is a little bit of satisfaction, like they were right about themselves all along.

It doesn't change the fact that they love each other, though, even if they don't know how to do it.

Nick lies next to Louis in their bed- not _his_ bed anymore, _their_ bed- and it's like there's a thick line of pain and fear between their bodies that he has to push his way through to touch his boyfriend's skin.

Their kisses taste like destruction and they fuck like it's the only way they know to be close anymore.

After, when Louis turns away from Nick, it's the part where Nick used to fit himself against the boy's back, holding him until they fell asleep. Now it's like there's too much between them, the pain and fear too heavy to get through. Nick can only watch the boy's back move with each breath he takes, tracing the bumps of his spine with his eyes and wishing he knew how to love him without hurting him.

-

“You smoke too much,” Louis says when he gets home and finds Nick lying in bed, an ashtray filled with smashed cigarette butts resting on his chest. Nick shrugs and doesn't even comment when Louis takes one and lights up himself. “At least open a bloody window and air this place out. It's rank in here.”

Nick watches as Louis moves to open the window, letting the cold London air into the room, chilling his skin. When Louis turns toward the bed, leaning down to tap his cigarette against the edge of the ashtray, the dead ash falling into it, Nick grabs his wrist.

“Hey,” he says, voice hoarse from chain smoking. “Hey, come here,” he mutters, picking up the ashtray between the pinky and thumb of his other hand, keeping his cigarette between his first two fingers. He moves the ashtray to the bedside table and tugs at Louis’ arm.

Louis hesitates for a second, looking into Nick's eyes, and the fear is there, along with the pain, shining down at him. He lets himself be pulled down over Nick anyway and they kiss between drags of their cigarettes, the cold air flooding the space between their bodies.

“Want you to fuck me, okay?” He says lowly into Louis' lips.

Louis nods, pressing into the kiss with more force, like he can erase the metaphorical distance between them if he pushes their bodies together hard enough. Their cigarettes burn down and die as they kiss and they give up on both at the same time, tossing the butts into the ashtray and pulling away from each other's mouths.

Nick gets on his hands and knees for Louis because he's already given the boy so much of himself and he has nothing left to hide from him. He lets Louis open him up with cold fingers and closes his eyes, feeling them burn behind his eyelids.

When Nick feels Louis pushing inside, he holds his breath and focuses on the way his body fights it, but inevitably gives way to the boy. It's so familiar it makes his stomach turn.

“Okay?” Louis asks when he's inside.

Nick nods into the pillow below him, forcing himself to breathe. “You can make it hurt a little,” he whispers, which Louis knows anyway.

“Yeah,” he replies, gripping Nick's hips and sliding back before pushing in again. “I've got you.”

It's a terrible understatement and Nick's throat tightens around his response: “you do.”

Louis fucks him the way he needs it, heavy and with fingernails digging into his skin. It's the only way Nick knows to do it anymore, to let him in like this. He doesn't know how to let Louis have him without also letting the boy destroy him a little bit.

Afterward, Nick lights another cigarette and tries not to think about how empty he feels. Louis takes it from him and rests it in one of the grooves on the edge of the ashtray, turning Nick's face toward him. His eyes are wet and Nick has never loved him more, has never been more afraid of him.

He searches Nick's face for a long moment, his lips parting like he wants to say something, but can't figure out what it is. In the end, he gives up on words and presses his forehead against Nick's, fingers grasping at his neck. Nick doesn't know how to take care of someone else's heart. Louis' is definitely made of glass.

He closes his eyes and kisses him instead, fingers shaking as he turns and holds onto him, holds him so tightly he's probably breaking him. He doesn't know how to love. He never claimed he did and he's so fucking pissed off that Louis made him do it anyway.

“You're such an asshole,” he breathes out between kisses, the words heavy and broken.

Louis spits his response out in a whisper against Nick's lips. “Guess we're perfect for each other then.”

Nick swallows Louis' words, kissing around them and wondering if they'll ever learn to love the right way, to take care of each other. He doesn't have to wonder if he'll ever be able to stop loving Louis, though. As much as he wishes he could, he knows Louis is not the kind of person you fall out of love with.


End file.
